


A Mystery Afoot

by Rose_of_Pollux



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Napoleon is a pungeon master
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23638288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: In which a case brings to Illya a mystery involving an abandoned, ancient skeleton in a dungeon--and many bad puns from Napoleon.
Relationships: Illya Kuryakin & Napoleon Solo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	A Mystery Afoot

Napoleon had to take a moment to look at the baffling site.

“Well… this isn’t something you see everyday,” he noted. “And thank goodness for that…”

Illya grunted in agreement, kneeling beside the skeleton that had been left in the old castle dungeon that THRUSH had been using for a temporary base. They had fled when they realized how close U.N.C.L.E. was getting, but had left several things behind, including this former occupant of the dungeon. Illya now inspected the ancient bones, attempting to piece together the situation.

“Did THRUSH do this?” Napoleon wondered aloud, indicating the skeleton. “Brings a whole new meaning to ‘Alas, poor Yorick…’”

“If you mean did they kill this man, no,” Illya said. “You can tell by the layers of the black mold patches and other signs of decomposition—he’s been here a very long time—centuries, I’d wager, and well before THRUSH was founded. However, there was something about him that THRUSH took an interest in.”

Napoleon blinked, looking at the skeleton.

“What do you mean?”

“Look closer, Napoleon. Don’t you see something missing?”

“Sure—muscles, skin, internal organs…” Napoleon said. Which he was glad for—he found it hard to stomach all that whenever Illya did autopsies. “Ordinarily, I’d quote Hamlet and say that THRUSH lugged the guts, but after this long, I don’t think there would’ve been any guts to lug.”

“Yes, all that would have remained are the bones,” Illya said. “But if you’ll notice, you’ll see that not all of them are accounted for.”

Napoleon glanced up and down the skeleton, pausing as he pointed to where the skeleton’s right foot should have been. He took a moment, trying to come up with a clever quip, but could only manage one word—

“Why…?”

“That, we won’t be able to find out until we ask THRUSH themselves. Perhaps, there was something on the skeleton—grave goods or the like—that they weren’t able to detach from the foot after scavenging everything else.”

“Well, I, for one, certainly want to know why they _hot-footed_ it with these dingy digits,” Napoleon mused aloud, prompting Illya to give him a look on account of the pun. Fueled by this, Napoleon continued. “Come on; let’s see if we can determine a _radius_ where they might still be!”

“…Really, Napoleon? Skeletal puns?”

“No need to _rib_ me, Tovarisch; just trying to keep a _humerus_ outlook on things as we go about our quest!”

Illya’s expression did not change, and Napoleon did sober slightly.

“Right, let’s find them,” he said. “And then, once we get the foot back, we’ll make sure this guy is reinterred somewhere.”

Illya nodded at this. One thing he appreciated about Napoleon was that, in spite of the levity and puns, he also knew not to take things too lightly. The levity was more for his own sanity, if nothing else; it was why, deep down, Illya understood exactly why he made those puns and quips.

He would never fault his partner for that, he silently noted, as he followed Napoleon out of the dungeon.


End file.
